Page 5 of Many Ruined Vows on a Forbidden Frolic

“This is not appropriate! I’m a princess!” Her open palms smack my flank relentlessly. “Let me down!”

She’s absolutely right. This is entirely inappropriate. My hand is flat against the heat of her petalhood. I try my best not to think of its warmth, which grows in intensity alongside the scent of misty midnight honey scent. I should put her down, but this is not the area of town for a princess, and she requires reprimanding after her behavior in the tavern, so I persist.

Her angry cries devolve into soft whimpers. I fear I’ve upset her more than the situation calls for, and yet my body continues to react in unacceptable ways. It’s a blessing that I’m old and experienced, else my cock would have slipped its sheath and drawn a line through the town square.

We cross the threshold of Dimword, but I don’t stop until I reach the forest barrier to the palace’s inner city. Burnt orange, rust brown, and deep green blur around us. Blister and ashenoak trees shed their leaves, crunching under my roaring hooves, and cedardusk needles scrape my arms. I forge deeper under their cover until I find a towering sequoiaoak, its tall trunk bare of branches until high above the canopy of oaks.

I plant her on the ground with as much care as my agitated muscles will allow. Air flees my lungs in heaves, and my hooves trot in place. I’m restless with anger, sure, but also thrown off by my traitorous body’s response to her wicked ways. I’ve lost my blooming mind.

“You’re evil and cruel,” the princess whines. She scurries back against the sequoiaoak tree and wraps her arms around her legs, crossing her ankles to hide the sweetly scented mound my hand had covered moments ago. “Barbaric centaur.”

I let out a high-pitched bray. Leaves crunch underhoof as I stomp the forest floor. Her eyes grow wide, and she wraps herself tighter.

Glancing around, I see no spiritvines that might report our clandestine conversation to the king. That doesn’t mean the roots aren’t listening. I trap her between my front hooves and bend at the waist, thrusting my finger toward her.

“You are the wicked one, little brat,” I hiss. “Speaking to strangers at a seedy tavern in Dimword!”

“You’re not a stranger.”

“Allowing males nearly your father’s age buy you drinks. Flirting about moondust and frolics!” I straighten, gesturing widely. “Moonpetal pollen, Princess Loreleivnna! You planted seeds of moondust and massages in my mind, knowing full well—”

“I never mentioned a blooming massage, you perverted petalfucker!” Princess Loreleivnna shoots to her feet. She tests me with her insolence, her chest heaving as she places both hands against my abdomen and shoves. I don’t budge. “It’s not my fault you heard a stranger mention moondust and your depraved mind took liberties!”

“You are not a stranger,” I growl.

“That’s what I just said!”

Her hands collide with my stomach again, and I catch her wrists in one hand, slamming them against the tree.

The princess’s jeweled eyes grow wide, the burgundy ring around her pupils blowing out. Her breasts heave with every breath, ghosting against the sensitive area where my flesh body meets my equine half. Her sweet, moondrop honey wafts around us, mixing deliciously with the mossy musk of the forest.

A wine-red sequoiaoak leaf drifts from above. Impulsively, I glance down, catching sight of her pebbled nipples, hard enough to see through the apron.

She’s enjoying this. For some reason, that infuriates me more. I crowd her against the tree, relishing the whimper it earns. Her back arches, pressing those supple breasts against my middle.

I lean in, bringing my lips to her ear. My voice comes out throaty and raw. “You place me in an unfair predicament, naughty petal. I’m well within my right to spank your rear for the sins of your lying tongue.”

“I never told a lie.” Rage fills her peridot pearls, bleeding out in the burgundy around her pupil. “You’re the only one who didn’t know who the other was.”

“That’s exactly my point,” I growl, stomping my hoof.

The implication of her words hit me a moment later, and I tilt my chin to scrutinize her better as my restraint wanes. Images of her flood my mind. Oiled and squirming beneath me, over my shoulder with my fingers deep in her sex, riding my back with her bare body as we run through the Spiritgrove.

“Pikr.” Princess Loreleivnna’s breath tickles against my lips. Our gazes lock, then hers drops to my mouth.

I never meant to get so close. I should pull away and gallop to the river to wash away all these sinful thoughts.

Chapter Four

Loreleivnna

The space between our bodies shrinks with every current of magic that zaps between our heartvines.

There’s no way Pikr doesn’t feel it.

His grip on my wrists tightens, the breath we share becoming more and more incessant until I’m almost panting.

I can barely feel his lips against mine, but it’s enough to finally confirm what I’ve always suspected. They are large enough to swallow me whole, and despite their coarseness, they’re plush and warm. I don’t mind their slight grit, for I know it’s due to the same hard work that makes his palm rough around my wrist.